


Coping Mechanisms

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Knotting, Sex, Smut, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 19:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18349928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: After years of managing your heats with suppressants, you’re caught short in Bumfuck Nowheresville with nothing but codeine, a bottle of Jack, and the joint you stole from Dean’s duffel. An early heat is a problem, especially for the Alpha who’s been keeping you at arms length for months.





	Coping Mechanisms

 

The ceiling was moving.

It had been doing that since the first puff of the joint you’d stolen out of Dean’s duffel, hidden in the side pocket. John didn’t approve of weed - he’d made that clear - but when your discomfort hadn’t been dulled by either the whiskey or the hot bath or the painkillers you’d taken, you knew you had only one option.

If this heat could have just been on time, you’d be in Sioux Falls instead of Lake Chanty, Wyoming.

Which didn’t even have a lake, by the way. Or a Starbucks. Or anything remotely close to a mall. It was a strip of road with a few shops and local people that instantly knew if you were a stranger and distrusted anyone with a badge. Local cattle killings had indicated a demon and you hadn’t expected it take this long to exorcize the sonofabitch.

Twisting on the bed, you pulled off your shirt, leaving you only in your oddly matched panties and sports bra. Sweat coated your skin in a fine layer and you lifted your knees, draping your arm between your legs as the room tipped one way, then the other.

A low groan left your lips as your fingers inadvertently dragged over the soaked fabric of your panties. Your pussy ached and pounded, but no toys meant no satisfaction - it didn’t matter how many times you touched yourself.

Every time a car pulled into the motel parking lot, you prayed for it to be John. He was the only thing you wanted. For months, you’d resisted and he’d kept his distance, but now, everything was clear. Since you’d started hunting with them, you’d harbored a crush on the older man but he’d respectfully ignored it.

He acted like you were fragile. Tonight being a fine example of how he treated you. This case had come up on the road back to Bobby’s, where you had a room and a prescription that would have been useful. Bobby wasn’t your father, or your uncle, but he acted like either or both when the situation suited him. Your father had died a long time ago and since then, you’d floated from place to place, eventually befriending Dean during a case at the foster home you’d been living in.

Demons.

Your father was apparently a hunter. You’d never known anything about it, not holding many memories of either of your parents. The foster caretakers were killed and you decided that knowing about the things that went bump in the night was better than blind ignorance.

Being Omega, you were required to have a chaperone at all times; in some states it was law, in others it was sensible. John had tolerated you as an eager-to-learn eighteen-year-old. Bobby wasn’t happy when you’d decided to hunt, having accepted the duty of your guardianship until an appropriate Alpha came along - he quickly found that you were stubborn, hard-headed and exactly like the Winchester boys.

Dean liked having another kid his age around. When Sam took off for college, you’d been good for him and John had known that. But Dean was Beta. John was the only Alpha - it wasn’t a common gene type in this day, more like a recessive throwback to when humans had packs and mates. As far as you knew, John had never had an Omega.

The heats were the worst. You always made sure you were back at the salvage yard, wrapped in your familiar scents and sounds. Everything was heightened during this time and sometimes, you wished you didn’t have to deal with it four times a year. Usually you were regular but you’d just come straight off of a four-week stint with John’s scent surrounding you.

Since Yellow-Eyes had become active again, you’d feared the moment John wouldn’t come back.

Reaching blindly for the whiskey, you toppled, losing your balance on the bed. You hit the floor with a thud before laughing loudly, pushing up onto your hands and knees. This was the point of drunk where you became giggly, which meant that hopefully it wouldn’t be long before you passed out.

The weed was taking hold now, making your footsteps a little lighter as you got to your feet, heading to the refrigerator to see if there was any of the burgers leftover from dinner. When you found the shelves to be empty, you pouted, standing straight as the headlights of a car washed over the motel room window.

You recognized the distinctive engine noise and the way she purred a little as she settled. Each of the passenger doors squeaked, then slammed, swiftly followed by the driver’s side that had a little more of a baritone creak than the other two doors.

The Alpha scent reached you before they did and as John entered the room, he reeled back at the thick scent. Sam and Dean hung back, unsure why their dad was hovering in the doorway.

“John,” you whispered, drawing his attention to you, “Alpha…”

“Dad,” Dean started, trying to push past, “what the hell is going on?”

John moved, letting Dean past and the younger man gave you an odd look, sniffing the air. Omega pheromones would have little to no effect on Dean, but he was smelling something else in the air. When he pinpointed it, he took hold of your shoulders, making you look him in the eyes.

“Shit,” he mumbled, looking at John, “she’s stoned.”

“Stoned?” John repeated, staring at Dean as if he’d grown a second head. “What the hell do you mean, she’s stoned? Where the fuck would she get drugs from, Dean?!”

The young man’s eyes went wide and he looked around the room. “Dammit, Y/N, I told you to stay out of my bag.”

“Can’t tell me what to do,” you slurred, folding your arms across your chest. “I’m older. And you’re not my Alpha.”

John’s low growl made your focus turn to him as Dean crossed the small room and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, inspecting the painkillers you’d taken with it. “She’s drunk, too,” he pointed out, watching you take a shaky step towards his father. “She must be sick if she’s trying to dull the pain like this.”

“She’s not sick,” John muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “Do me a favor; take Sam, take your things and go get another room.”

You drew closer, pressing up against him, scenting at his throat. John remained statue-still, his hands fisted at his sides, his entire body shuddering from your proximity.

“Er…” Sam raised a finger, pointing at your odd behavior. “What is she doing?”

“I don’t know,” Dean replied, pulling a face as you nuzzled into his dad’s neck, humming happily. Your fingers were wrapped in the collar of his shirt, eyes closed as you scented him deeply. “Dad, are you sure you want us to leave you here?”

“She’s drunk,” Sam informed him, a disapproving look on his face.

John sighed, shaking his head, peeling your fingers off of his shirt only for you to grab him in an entirely different place. It was almost like you were trying to climb him, like a baby monkey would do its mother. “Trust me, I can handle it. But she’s running on base instinct and that can be…”

“It’s very hot in here,” you whispered, flinging your arms around John’s neck. “I’m wearing too much.”

“That’s our cue,” Dean grabbed his bag, alarm on his face, “we’re gone.” He rushed at his brother, stumbling in his haste to not see you starting to strip. It wasn’t that you weren’t attractive - Dean had always thought of you as a sister and seeing you mostly naked and grinding against his dad was probably going to leave him with nightmares for a few weeks.

As soon as the door closed, John untangled your arms from around his neck, forcing you backward.

“Behave,” he ordered, rolling his eyes when you pouted at him. “We’ve talked about this, Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me you were close to heat?”

“It’s early,” you grunted, stepping closer without even thinking about it, reaching out to touch him. “I couldn’t help it.” John shrugged you off, once again pushing you back to the bed. Your bottom lip stuck out even further, your expression petulant. “John -”

The plaintive tone made his back go ramrod straight. “Baby girl,” the softly spoken nickname made your insides churn, “we’ve talked about this. I’m… I’m not the Alpha you need.”

“Don’t care.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily and you took the opportunity to press up behind him, squishing your breasts against his strong back and wrapping your arms around his middle. “I care,” he mumbled. “I care a lot. For one, Bobby would kill me. For two… you don’t want an old man like me.”

“You’re not that old.”

“I’m old enough,” he shot back, pulling your arms from around his waist, turning to look down at you. “You need to sober up. Before something happens that you regret.” Keeping your bottom lip firmly stuck out, you let John tug you toward the bed. He made you sit and went to turn, only to find your fingers entwined with his.

“Please, John,” you whispered. “Don’t leave me alone. Would you just hold me? It doesn’t hurt so bad when you’re…” You wanted to say when he was touching you, but you didn’t think that was the way to get him to do what you wanted. “When you’re close.”

“I can be close from over here,” he gestured to the other bed, “you just need to sleep and sober up.”

Huffing with irritation, you tugged his hand again, mewling pitifully. “Please.”

The moment he caved was clear and he shrugged off his jacket and shirt, leaving him in just his t-shirt and pants. He walked around, sitting on the other side of the bed to pull his boots off, letting them thud to the floor. “Get under the covers,” he ordered and you nodded, pulling the sheets over your almost-nude body. John laid on top of them, close enough for you to snuggle into him.

“John?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Why don’t you want me?”

There was a second of silence before he answered. “I never said I didn’t,” he confessed, “but like I said - I’m old and I’m no good for you.” 

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Isn’t that my choice?”

John laughed this time, shaking his head, one thumb dragging over your bare shoulder in lazy circles. “No. You don’t know what you want, Y/N. If I… if I let you have what you think you want… I’d be a bad man.”

“What if I’m a bad girl?” you chanced, wiggling in his hold.

His silence lasted longer than the first time. “Go to sleep, Y/N.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Then why did you get into bed?”

“You told me to,” you answered simply, pulling back to look up at him.

“I’m not your Alpha, baby girl.” Your bottom lip poked out again and he groaned in frustration. “Y/N, we can’t. You’re drunk, for one. Intoxicated. And I know it hurts but you’ll feel like an idiot in the morning. Trust me. We’ll get you back to Sioux Falls and you’ll feel fine once you’ve had your meds.”

You kept pouting at him, fingers curled in his t-shirt. “What if I don’t feel different in the morning? What if I want you to know that I want you as my Alpha?” Lifting up a little, you eased your weight onto his chest, leaning in closer to scent him. “I’m yours, John. I always wanted to be yours.”

“You’re not much older than my boys!” he protested, although he didn’t move from where you lightly pinned him, your breath laced with whiskey and the scent of your heat making him hard as steel. “Y/N…” Your name came out through his clenched teeth and you grew bolder, snaking a hand down his front to touch him over his pants.

John moved, quicker than you anticipated, rolling you so your back was crushed against his chest. When you tried to squirm your ass against him, he dragged his legs backward, preventing you from doing so by shoving a pillow between your bodies.

You mewled pitifully, thwarted in your attempts. “John!”

He held strong against your struggles and eventually, you gave up, too drunk to keep going. “You done?”

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Don’t you dare.”

You made a  _ guh _ sound, closing your eyes until the nausea and dizziness subsided. John’s breath tickled the back of your neck and you hummed happily, grinding back against the pillow.

“Stop that.”

“I want you,” you replied petulantly. John growled. “It hurts,” you continued, “I need it.”

He remained stubbornly silent, arms clenched around you. Your nipples were hard from arousal and all the squirming against his hard body - you could feel the slick on your thighs and your own scent filled your nostrils. How John was being so stoic, you had no clue, but it was aggravating you to no extent.

“John -” you tried again.

“No,” he interrupted, the tip of his nose pressing against the back of your neck; you could hear him inhale deeply and his hips rolled into the pillow. “It’s not happening.”

“What if I was sober?” you asked, a heaviness settling over the front of your head. The weed was affecting you more than the alcohol now and your eyelids were getting harder to open. John sighed, his fingers moving across your arms.

“If you can look me in the eye tomorrow,” he murmured, relaxing his hold a little more, “and tell me you honestly want  _ me _ as your Alpha?” A dry laugh escaped him and he shook his head. “You’ll understand when you got a clear head, baby girl.” He shifted a little, adjusting the pillow. “Get some sleep.”

You didn’t argue.

*****

John was usually a light sleeper. He hadn’t intended to sleep for so long but the fight from the night before and holding off his own instincts with you, pliant and needy in his arms - it had taken everything out of him.

You woke just as the sun was peeking under the motel room carpets, illuminating the carrots on them in a bright orange. Wiping at your eyes, you turned, realizing that the warmth behind you was John and the pillow he’d used as a barrier was nowhere to be seen.

He’d stripped in his sleep too - you sat up, looking down at the bottom of the bed where one long leg stuck out, his pants hanging off of his ankle. The state of his sleep-tousled hair and relaxed features made you smile and you laid back down, turning to face him.

John Winchester was handsome. All three of them were. But Sam and Dean were not your type, as much as that would make most women balk. For one, they were both Beta. You had no doubt they were skilled in the bedroom, but without a knot, most Omegas would eventually go crazy.

Literally.

The attraction had been there from the start. Tall, dark, handsome, mysteriously tragic backstory - okay, so the backstory wasn’t an issue. Everyone had baggage and you knew John’s was heavier than most. He was guarded and cautious around you and the fanciful little romantic that you kept caged in your heart always swooned at the thought that he was like this because he felt the same.

Your heat was started to build up again, the urgency you’d dulled with alcohol and drugs last night coming back in full force. John moaned in his sleep, his eyebrows knitting together and you reached down, brushing the hardness in his boxers with the back of your knuckles.

He shifted and his pants fell off his foot, thudding to the floor with the weight of his cellphone in the pocket.

You paused, holding your breath as he started to stir, eyes opening slowly. The heat of his swollen cock radiated through his boxers to your fingers and you couldn’t help but press them harder against them.

John’s lips parted, a whispered  _ Omega _ sending a chill down your spine. His eyes opened fully, pupils contracting at the change in light. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“Looking you in the eye and telling you that I need my Alpha,” you murmured back, not taking your eyes off his as you curled your fingers around his shaft, stroking him through his boxers. John moaned low in his throat, lifting his chin and making no move to stop you. “I’m sober. I’m in heat. And I’ve wanted you since I was old enough to know what getting knotted meant.”

“Y/N -”

“Don’t you dare bring up the age thing,” you snapped. “I’m older than Dean. Maybe not by much, but I’m old enough to know what I want, John. And I want you.” Pushing the covers off, you straddled his waist, taking advantage of his still-dozy movements. His cock pressed against your covered pussy and you whimpered, feeling his pulse through the thick muscle. “I want you,” you repeated.

John grunted, looking up at you, wild and already starting to perspire excessively. The heat of your thighs against his was almost scalding and when you rolled your hips, dragging your soaked panties over his boxers, a wet spot appeared where the tip of his cock strained the grey fabric.

“You want me too,” you stated, pushing his shirt up, running your fingers over his bare chest. John nodded in confirmation, breathing heavily as you abandoned touching him, pulling your sports bra over your head. Your breasts spilled free and John’s cock twitched underneath you. “Want your knot, Alpha.”

The sound he made was primal, a low rumble that started in his chest and emerged from his throat in a growl. His hands clutched at your thighs, sliding up your sides to cup your breasts, rubbing his thumbs over the hard peaks. “You’re sure,” he murmured, “you want me, princess?”

You nodded, covering his hands with yours. “It’s always been you.”

He moved, sitting up and laying you back on the bed, lowering his mouth to capture one hard nipple between his lips. You whined and arched, threading your fingers through his greying hair. A few more years and he’d be a perfect example of a silver fox.

His stubble brushed the underside of your breast as he moved further down, one hand snaking inside your panties. Your slick coated his fingers as he probed you and John groaned into your belly, his nose nudging your navel.

“You smell amazing,” he purred, meeting your eyes. Two fingers pushed into you, opening you up and you keened quietly. “You ever had a knot, Omega?”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, “never.”

John smiled, pulling his fingers free to drag your panties down your legs. Discarding them across the room, he slotted himself between your thighs, stripping his t-shirt as he lowered himself. The second his mouth covered your soaked slit, you whined, clutching at the sheets underneath you.

“Gonna get you ready for me, Omega,” he murmured, nuzzling into your cunt, teasing your hole with his tongue before dragging it up to your clit. “Make you feel real good.”

Your answer was a throaty moan; you tipped your head back into the pillows, gasping as he licked and sucked greedily at your sensitive flesh. The two fingers he’d penetrated you with before returned, sinking into your slick channel, pumping in a maddeningly slow rhythm.

John took his time, working you to the edge and holding you there, your entire body tensed on the bed. Your legs were bent, heels digging into the mattress as he ate you out, pausing when he felt the telltale shudder of your orgasm.

“Please,” you whined loudly, “please, John, I need to cum.”

He chuckled against you, lifting his head but not stopping his fingers pumping inside you. “You wanna cum, princess?”

“Yes,” you hissed, the word trailing off into a whimper.

“Wanna watch your face,” John murmured, pushing up a little and leaning on one elbow so he could fuck you harder with his other hand. His thick digits drove into you, deeper on each thrust - he curled the tips upward, brushing against your sweet spot.

The little push was all you needed. Your climax washed over you with a shuddering cry - your thighs shook as you struggled not to crush them together against the continued onslaught of pleasure. Your fingers dragged through the sheets and when John pulled away, your entire body jolted, slick pooling underneath your ass.

John sucked his fingers into his mouth, grinning lewdly as he cleaned them of your essence. You only just managed to keep your eyes open, panting heavily through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“No,” you lied and he laughed, shaking his head before hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. “Need your knot.”

“You’re gonna get it,” he promised, tossing his boxers away. Your gaze dropped to his cock, thick and full, the purple head visibly throbbing with need. His knot was half-swollen, precum dribbling from the tip.

Curiosity had you sitting up and reaching for him, wrapping your fingers around his dick almost gingerly. John watched, eyes dark with lust as you moved forward onto your knees, stroking him slowly. “Can I -” You hesitated, feeling bashful of all things.

“Suck my cock?” he finished for you, smirking. “You can say it.”

“Can I suck your cock, Alpha?”

He groaned, stroking a hand over your hair as he nodded and you smiled coyly, sitting on your haunches as you contemplated your first move. Lowering your head, you dragged your tongue over the flared tip, tasting him thick and salty on your tongue.

John’s breathing grew heavier, his hand still on your head as you licked and sucked at him, experimenting with what felt comfortable for you and what felt good for him. He didn’t stop you, or guide you, giving you the time to figure it out on your own.

When you took him between your lips, testing the weight of him on your tongue, John growled, his hand tightening for a brief second. His reaction spurred you on; you took a little more into your mouth, gagging when his tip brushed the back of your throat. Instinct drew you back, your eyes watering, but determination pushed you to try again.

Bobbing up and down, you slowly established a rhythm that was comfortable, interspersing each stroke with licks along his shaft. Cupping his balls in your fingers, you smiled at the sounds John made, rolling the sensitive sac between your fingertips.

“Tha’s it, princess,” he slurred, voice heavy with arousal. “Goddamn, you’re beautiful, Omega.”

You couldn’t help it - your ass raised in response to the praise, your throat opening as you fought your gag reflex to take him deeper. John moved forward, sliding his hand over your lower back until he could brush his fingers over your wet folds.

“Hmmm,” he dipped one finger into you, “sucking cock gets you wet, baby?”

Pulling off of him, you nodded, gasping for breath with a string of drool connecting your lower lip to his cock. The sight of you, debauched and panting, snapped his last thread of control and he pulled back, slapping your ass lightly.

“Present for me, Omega. Show me that pretty little cunt.”

You scrambled to obey, lowering your head to the pillows, sticking your butt in the air. John hummed in approval, stroking his shaft, still wet with your saliva. 

“Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“Want your knot, John,” you whined, the sound muffled by the pillows, “Alpha, please -”

The bed dipped under his weight as he moved, positioning himself behind you. “Can feel how hot you are, baby girl,” he murmured, teasing his cockhead against your opening. “Can feel how desperate you are for my knot.”

He pushed in only a few inches - it was enough to make you cry out and lift your head. The Omega instinct to bare your throat to him was starting to kick in and you swallowed as John pulled back before sliding back in.

This time he got just over halfway when your body put up resistance to the intrusion. With another few shallows thrusts, his cock finally filled you to the brim, the head pressing tight against your cervix as his balls rested against your swollen labia.

“Fuck,” John exhaled, clutching at your ass with one hand and using the other to hold himself up. “You feel like warm wet velvet.” You grunted in response, clawing at the pillows as your head rolled to one side. John leaned over a little further, forcing your ass higher and your belly down into the bed. “Gonna fill you up, Y/N.”

You didn’t see beyond that need. Mewling desperately, you squirmed and John planted his hands on your ass, drawing back before slamming home once again.

A scream tore from your throat as he started to fuck you, giving into the Alpha instinct to breed. Within seconds, he was panting heavily, dripping sweat onto your back, marking you with his scent. You arched and begged for more, unable to tell whether you were going from one orgasm to another or shuddering through one entirely drawn-out climax.

John didn’t seem to slow as he lifted one leg, planting his foot on the bed flat. The angle changed, sending his cock deeper into you, almost to the point of pain, but it was just enough to enhance the pleasure. Your cunt tightened around him and John snarled loudly, thrusting into you faster if that was even possible.

Bliss overwhelmed you; your eyes rolled back in your head and John’s roar was followed by the thickness of his knot popping inside you, stretching you more than you’d imagined possible. Hot spurts of cum filled you, pumping into your belly without restriction, and you thought you might have lost consciousness somewhere along the way.

John’s slump came seconds after and he rolled, tucking your body against his as he landed sideways on the bed. It would be a while before he could move away from you and for the time being, you were happy to lay in the glow.

Lips pressed against your ear and you smiled, feeling his arms loop around your waist. “Happy?” he asked, nuzzling into you.

“You didn’t mark me,” you whispered, wishing you could look him in the eye.

“We’ll discuss that later,” he replied, kissing your shoulder and squeezing his arms around you. “Get some rest. Your heat ain’t done.”


End file.
